


All The World

by Nillen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Sherlock Holmes, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2187561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nillen/pseuds/Nillen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Riddle, a young detective, focused his whole commitment toward catching a serial murderer, labelled as 'The Scalpel'. But what if the accidents happened slowly hit too close to home, and the only person Tom ever came to love? Tom/Harry. SLASH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The World

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but the plot and the original characters are purely mine.
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta for editing this. This story is inspired by Sherlock Holmes Series, CSI Series, and Hannibal.
> 
> Ladies and gentlemen, put on your seatbelt, and may you enjoy the ride. :)

“His name is Christian McTaylor. 47 years old. Divorced and worked as a lawyer in a quite well-known firm. His neighbor found him dead in his bed this morning when he didn’t go through his morning routine; which was playing the saxophone loudly. She was suspicious, knocked the door and no answer, but last night he did come home. The door was unlocked. Cause of death, a sharp stab in the heart.” Blaise explained while slowly checking the small bedroom. He carefully moved the victim’s belongings on the coffee table to look for any clear evidence but found none. Draco took pictures of every part of the room while Tom looked out from the open window.

“Clean, isn’t it?” Tom quietly asked. Blaise sighed and nodded.

“Unfortunately. It’s the same murderer. Our Scalpel. ”

“This is our fifth victim. Still, no apparent motive as of yet.” Cedric muttered and slowly zipped the bag containing the dead body. He turned to look at his assistants and nodded at them.

“Send him in.” They responded by quickly but carefully taking the corpse out to be sent to the hospital. Cedric looked at Blaise and Draco who have already finished with their work and then at their leader. Tom closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

“Five victims. Same cause of death; a sharp stab in the heart, big chance it’s caused by a sharp, metal object; our suspicion is a scalpel. One woman, four men; ages ranging from 40 to 50. Professions, unrelated. Relatives, unrelated. Past relationships, unrelated. Clean cut murder.” He murmured before turning to look at his team. The four of them stood still, looking at each other before Cedric’s cell phone suddenly rang.

Cedric grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, it’s Harry. A moment please.” He left the crime scene quickly, and Blaise snickered.

“Ah, lovebirds. Can’t even be away for more than an hour.”

“Shut up, Blaise. At least Diggory’s getting some.” Draco snorted, his eyes sharp as he examined the pictures in his camera. Tom resisted the urge to hit something by the mention of Harry’s name and darted his eyes around the room.

“Blaise,” once the tall investigator looked at him, Tom tilted his head to the bedside table, which had pens on top of it.

“Looks like our fifth victim is – was a writer as well. The amount of pens on top of the table indicates that he wrote a lot. Journal maybe. Notes. Maybe he even wrote a diary. This room has a lot of books and papers as well. Funny, no computers or laptops found in this apartment.” Tom stated as he approached the tall bookshelf near the door. There were a lot more books outside of the bedroom and Blaise narrowed his eyes.

“Laptops or computers. He’s a lawyer. No way would he survive without that.” Blaise pointed out. Draco nodded his head in agreement.

“And to think again, this is our first victim who actually had a career. The other four are a housewife, a bartender, and two jobless men.”

“Maybe McTaylor had an idea about the murderer. He was murdered, because he found something-” Blaise was cut off when Cedric suddenly rushed into the room. All of them looked at him; Tom with a raised eyebrow. Cedric’s expression was hopeful and serious at the same time as he showed them his phone.

“Guys, Harry said he might have found something from the fourth victim that could relate to the other three.”

 

 

“Black market? Seriously, Potter? What has gotten into you this time, dead people giving you random clues in your dreams?” Draco glared at the young forensic doctor as Harry gave Tom a file.

“Yes, black market, Malfoy. If you can just shut your useless hole for a minute and let me explain.” Harry bit back, shocking Draco who stood with his mouth agape. Both Blaise and Cedric chuckled at the interaction.

“Feisty one you got there, Cedric.”

“Thank you, Blaise.”

Tom rolled his eyes at their behaviour, while thoroughly going through the file. Harry placed his white doctor coat on his chair before he sat down on the chair and checked on his computer.

“About three years ago, I followed Ron’s team to investigate at a large black market, Horcrux. But what we found there was bigger than we expected.” Harry clicked open the old document he had in his work file and turned to look at Tom. The 30 years old investigator narrowed his eyes at the file he was reading.

“Slavery.”

The other three pairs of eyes turned to look at him in shock. Harry nodded slowly.

“Yes. Slavery. Fortunately, Ron’s team managed to catch all the present buyers. Our fourth victim, Phillips Carr, was one of them.”

Blaise shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. The sentence of slavery-”

“We caught him, but he got a strong alibi, Blaise. We couldn’t hold him down when there was a reasonable doubt. At first I thought this was just a coincidence. Then just to make sure, I asked Ron to check on the criminal records for our three previous victims.” Harry nodded his head and show Tom the record he received from the FBI.

Tom’s blue eyes were sharp as they skimmed through the load of information. Cedric stood still behind him, reading it as well, while Draco and Blaise got into a small discussion between themselves.

“Our second victim, Charles Vaughn is definitely a black market buyer material. Found his record for having in his possession a couple of illegal things but can’t really point out where he bought it. It was vague on the fact whether he got involved in the slavery activity as well or not, but let’s put our vote on ‘yes’. Third victim’s family, the Tanners, was speculated to have a few slaves before. Found it in his father’s record, not James Tanner’s. But it looked like a family habit. But it was the first victim that got you down, Tom. The first victim, Paula Lee. Once caught for being involved in a slavery auction, but no evidence for that. Acquitted and the record was wiped clean on request filed to the court.” Harry explained. Tom rechecked the file in his hands and looked at the green eyed man in front of him.

“We didn’t go through their criminal records thoroughly because they were clean. Except for Charles Vaughn’s but that seemed unrelated.” Cedric voiced out, and Harry nodded in agreement.

“But actually, it turned out the victims managed to hide them well. Paula Lee’s record was clean, only because it was cleared up.” Blaise frowned deeply before they turned their attention to their leader. Tom was indifferent, but he was gripping the plastic file in his hand tightly.

“Once is an accident. Twice is fate. Thrice is a habit,” Tom murmured softly and Harry’s green eyes stared into his blue, as if he was thinking the same thought on Tom’s mind. Tom chuckled, giving the file for Draco to hold.

Tom smirked. “But since this is a serial murder case, let us get you operating on the fifth body first, Potter. Just to confirm.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the older man, but nevertheless laughed at his words.

“Of course, Tom, of course.”

 

 

“Heard the wedding is tomorrow evening?” Blaise nudged Cedric and the blond laughed at his wriggled eyebrows.

“No, no wedding. Just going to register and get the license at the office. My parents don’t mind how I want the wedding to be, and Harry’s father is in Scotland. He thinks it’s a waste of time just to let him come here only for a wedding. His sister is coming, though. You’re welcome to attend it.” Cedric explained with a small smile on his lips. Tom sipped his black coffee, his eyes fixed on his papers but his ears sharp on the conversation.

The lounge room was only occupied by them, since Draco who just went out to the FBI’s office to meet Ron Weasley. Cedric turned to look at him and Tom nonchalantly put his tea away, as if he didn’t know the blond was about to ask him to come.

“Hey, Tom, if you’re free tomorrow evening, you may as well come with us. I think Harry would be happy to have you there. It’s our day off anyway. Might as well get some drinks afterward.” The blond offered with a kind smile on his face, although he knew the shared past between his fiancé and his boss. Tom looked at them for a moment before going back to his works.

“We’ll see.”

 

 

“It seems that you are ready to be tied down.”

Harry quickly turned to look at the person standing at the door. Tom leaned against the doorframe, blue eyes scrutinizing Harry in his sharp and smart black suit. Harry sighed heavily before turning back to look at the mirror again.

“What are you doing here, Tom? You still keep my key?” Harry adjusted his tie carefully and watched from the tall mirror as Tom approached him from behind. His bedroom was now half empty, since most of his belongings were already moved to Cedric’s house. He thought of selling his apartment at first, but then refused to follow the thought.

His apartment is too valuable to sell, too much memories.

Memories like Tom.

Tom leaned closer; his chest to Harry’s back and gently placed his hands on both sides of Harry’s waist.

“Harry-”

“Tom, no.” Harry cut him off abruptly and turned to look at him. His green eyes were sad and strong at the same time, causing Tom to move back slightly. They stared at each other for a moment, and Tom at last, chuckled.

“You know, I’ve always liked that one thing about you.” He smiled, reaching out one hand to tuck a strand of black locks behind Harry’s ear. Harry closed his eyes and shivered involuntarily.

“I like that you never stop being yourself. Even though when you are sad, you still try to make other people happy.” Tom whispered softly and pressed a gentle kiss against Harry’s forehead. Harry shook his head and turned to look at the open windows of his bedroom. The sun was bright and in two more hours, he’ll be wedded to one Cedric Diggory.

“… I love you, Tom. I have, and will always do.” Harry murmured, carefully grabbing Tom’s wrist that was close to his face and pressed a kiss to the blue vein he saw there. Tom’s blue eyes were dark and sharp, and Harry took a shaky breath before looking at them.

“But I want this. I want this complete commitment. Marriage. Settling down. A house, kids, two dogs, white fences and everything.” Harry continued, tone desperate and Tom sighed. Harry pressed forward at the response that he got and tightened his grip on Tom’s wrist.

“You don’t want this. And I can’t… can’t live with that.” He clenched his eyes shut and felt Tom’s breathing becoming laboured.

“So you decided to go for the second best.” He felt the reply before it was out and Harry leaned closer to his former lover.

“Shut it, Tom, Cedric is a lot of things.” Harry defended but didn’t mind the almost snort Tom gave him. Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle didn’t do snorting. But almost-snorts, yes.

“A lot of things that you don’t need. I am something that you need.” Tom looked down, cupping Harry’s cheeks with his palms so that he looked up at him and when their eyes met again, Harry was flooded by all those years of being a completely happy fool in love, of years working in a completely perfect chemistry with the brilliant investigator, and of years waiting for him to come home when he got in too deep with his work, of his sleepless nights, of his dangerous, careless actions.

“Tom,” Harry pushed him away, not unkindly, hands on his chest. Tom looked at him as if he was looking at what they could still have and Harry laughed at that, albeit bitterly.

“Look at you. Have you even gotten home yet since yesterday?” Harry gestured at his clothes and condition, causing Tom to run his fingers through his already messy hair exasperatedly.

“I was working on the fifth victim, Harry, I can’t waste my time sleeping. One minute wasted on sleep could have brought me to the killer-”

“Tom, this is the reason why we won’t make it. This is what I can’t handle! I can’t handle not knowing what had gotten into your mind at times when you go all crazy over crime scenes. And worst, if you got killed and I’d probably be the last person to know. And you know what, there’s a big chance it won’t even be an ‘if’. Now, it’s probably just a matter of ‘when’.” Harry sighed loudly, looking away and rubbing his face with his palms. He hated it the most when they got into this kind of argument. Had it too many times for it to matter anymore. And Harry hated it the most when Tom had no excuse to fight him back.

When the only thing that Tom does after Harry threw everything, every iota of emotion and concern on his face, was to be silent.

Harry turned to get his cellphone when a message came in. It was probably Cedric, waiting at their reserved room in the hotel for the night. He took a moment to calm himself down before grabbing his suit jacket on his bed and pulled his small luggage bag by the side of the bed. Tom watched him silently after his outburst, but his eyes masked thousands of unspoken words when Harry turned to look at him before he went out from his bedroom.

They stared at each other for another moment, and Harry tightened his grip on his jacket.

“Why are you even here anyway? To stop me?” Harry chuckled, the sound hollowed, its fakeness resounding, but it wouldn’t matter anymore. It _shouldn’t_ anymore. Tom returned his smile, lips upturned on his handsome face but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Harry ignored the painful clench in his chest as Tom blinked his eyes, wiped away a trace of tears with the back of his hand as if it was nothing.

“I’m not coming to your marriage registration, or the drinks you people will be having afterwards. It was nice of Diggory to ask anyway. To answer your question, I’m here to congratulate you on your marriage. And congratulations too, for finally getting what you want… You two make a perfect pair.” Tom nodded at him with a small smile before he headed out to the door, his long strides never pausing as he passed by Harry, only pausing briefly to put down the spare key of Harry’s apartment on the coffee table before he left the place.

Harry was left to stand alone in the middle of his empty apartment, a chuckle escaping his throat that felt too tight suddenly, and eyes warmed and blurred by tears.

 

 

“Harry, you look handsome, you pretty boy.” Harry rolled his eyes at his sister, who came to him to give him a tight hug. He hugged her back as fiercely before turning to look at his fiancé and friends. Ron, Hermoine, Blaise, and surprisingly, Draco were there as well. They stood in front of the City Clerk’s office while waiting for their turn.

“You look… good, Harry,” Cedric complimented him, a bright, happy grin on his face and Harry felt a blush warm his cheeks. He shyly nodded. “Yeah, thanks. You too, Cedric.”

“Aww… I can’t believe Harry is getting married earlier than we are, he’s just 28! But that should be okay, they look super handsome. Beautiful couple.” Hermione sighed dreamily before looking at her boyfriend, who was standing next to her. Ron couldn’t help but laugh at them.

“Hey, give the guy a rest. Harry looks like he could cook an egg on his face!” Ron grinned, pointing out at Harry’s red face. His sister, Harriet, wrapped her arm around him while chuckling as well. Blaise and Draco shook their heads at the statement but grins were on their faces.

“So Tom’s not coming?” Draco inquired almost nonchalantly, but Harry knew the other members of the Crime Scene Investigation were quite worried about their leader. Cedric said nothing but his warm brown eyes looked almost apologetic.

“No, he’s busy with the victims. But he said congratulations. That should be sufficient.” Harry smiled, almost disgusted by how easily he can lie with his words. Cedric and the others were too quick to be comforted.

“Cedric Diggory, and Harry Potter?” they were interrupted by a female worker from the office, and Cedric nodded to signal their presence. Harriet turned to give a peck on her older brother’s cheek, chuckling.

“Finally, the day you’ve been waiting for. After years of planning.” She whispered with a smile. Harry turned to look at her, their identical green eyes scrutinizing each other before he let out a small smile and kissed her back on her cheek.

“Yes. Let’s do this.”

Cedric turned to look at Harry, smiled at the siblings’ interaction before offering him his arm like a gentleman he was. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes at the display when his sister and Hermione started to squeal like teenage girls.

“You’re ready?” Cedric asked, happy and hopeful.

Harry’s green eyes softened at the display, before nodding his head with a smile of his own.

Oh, how he wished Tom was Cedric.

But this is what he wanted.

He couldn’t go back after this. Not anymore.

“Yes, Cedric. Always.”

 

 

“You found the laptop?” Tom asked once Blaise entered the office and the black man had to control his yawn before answering his superior. He nodded his head and tilted his head at the direction of the door.

“I’ve sent it to the Evidence Room. It was in his office at his firm. Maybe we won’t get much of it. Probably 1% possibility of it being helpful, considering on how old the model is.” Blaise shrugged and proceeded to take a sip from his takeaway coffee. Tom frowned, staring at the wide white board in front of him, arms crossed.

“1% possibility is still a possibility. We can’t afford to risk even a single percentage of _probable_ evidence. Have you become rusty in just one night, Zabini?” Tom turned his head to look at the younger investigator disapprovingly, causing Blaise to blink back at him.

“… Okayyy, Tom, we’ll take a look at it later.” The black man slowly agreed, and watched as their team leader gave back the white board his attention. He put down his coffee and took his seat, ready to start his day.

“Morning, Tom, Blaise.” Draco entered their office with his trench coat on his arm; one hand holding onto a paper bag and the other hand carrying his briefcase. Tom just hmm-ed absentmindedly as the response, and Draco abruptly stopped, raising a questioning eyebrow at his other companion in the room.

Blaise mouthed slowly.

‘Someone is in a bad mood.’

Draco made a motion of shooting his own head with his forefinger and thumb.

‘Might as well kill ourselves now before he kills us later.’

“You two are loud.”

Both Blaise and Draco quickly turned to look at Tom, scared that he was watching their interaction but the older man was still facing his white board. Draco squinted his eyes,

“No, we’re not.” Draco bit back, as he approached his table to put down his things. Tom waved one hand that was holding onto a marker.

“Your empty heads are making those loud sounds like something small got caught in it. Like pebbles in an empty can. I am wondering where your brains are in this early hours of the morning.” He answered back, still not looking at them and Draco quickly turned to look at Blaise again, face incredulous.

‘Again I tell you. Suicide. _Now_.’ He motioned again. Blaise rolled his eyes at the blond before going back to his work. They settled down into their working positions and started their work without any other interaction. The atmosphere in the big office was calm and silent for a long moment; Draco and Blaise searching for more information on the victims while Tom stared at the clean white board in front of him.

Cedric had taken two days off to celebrate his marriage with Harry, and since Harry was not exactly specialized for their department, they didn’t know how long Harry took days off, and how long would it take for his assistant, Cho Chang to finish operating on the fifth dead body.

The silence was however, broken when one Hermione Granger entered the office with a bright smile.

“Hello, boys, the lab sent this for you this morning.” the young female analyst grinned and placed a document in an envelope on Draco’s table. Draco looked at the envelope before checking it.

“Oh, the result for the blood test. Thanks, Granger.” Draco nodded his head at the girl before going back to do his works. Hermione smiled.

“You’re welcome, anyway, I just wanted to ask-” she turned to look at the older investigator who was still staring at the white board and her eyes went wide at his clothes and his form. “Tom, when was the last time you went home?”

Tom didn’t even turn to look at her while answering with a plain, “I’m working.”

Hermoine rolled her eyes at his back and looked back at Tom’s two unfortunate underlings.

“Yes, back to my question. It’s not even 8 yet, so who wants to accompany me for breakfast?”

“Me.” “Okay.” Blaise and Draco quickly shut their files and stood up from their seats, couldn’t stop themselves from wanting to leave the room as soon as possible. The female analyst inwardly sighed, but managed to let out a small chuckle.

“All right, boys. Let’s go. Anything, Tom?”

“ _Working_.”

“All right, all right.”

Tom heard an exasperating sigh from Hermione, few shuffles here and there, indicating Blaise and Draco picking up their things and then, the slow motion of the door closing. Finally the noisy ducklings were gone, Tom inwardly rolled his eyes.

He spent another minute staring at the white board, mind swirling for any connected relations and his eyes narrowed even more at the white board as time went by. Every clue, and words, and sign worked themselves out in his mind and by the end of his deliberating, he drew a big circle in the middle of the white board, marked ‘BM:S’. Surrounding the big circle were five smaller circles, distanced from the middle circle like planets orbiting around the Sun. He labelled each circle by the name of the victims, and promptly connected all circles to the main circle with an arrow. Parallel to each arrow line, he wrote down the type of record the victims had relating to the black market.

Tom put the dates of their committed crime and then leaned back to observe his work.

“Five victims, all related to the Black Market: Slavery but the dates and their wrongdoings are completely unrelated. Even the genders, past records and relationship are unrelated. Could it be one of the-” Tom’s blue eyes widened a fraction as he stared at the middle circle. Something devious passed into his mind and stopped at the back of his head, buzzing annoyingly as if it was telling him how stupid he was being. Tom slowly uncapped his marker and approached the white board again.

He draw a bigger circle, just outside of the ‘BM:S’ circle and took a deep, shaky breath.

“ _The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes._ ”

He grinned.

 

 

“One date. One date where all the victims met at the Black Market for the slave auction. We just need that _one date_ in their previous 20 to 30 years of life.”

“You’re a madman.” Blaise stated with a blank face.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Draco protested as well.

“Riddle, really, as much as I would love to entertain you, but in case you’ve forgotten, one of your victim was a housewife, two were jobless, one was a bartender and another was a lawyer. Four have no valid and legal records of their work, not to mention, that just makes it harder for us to dig into the previous 20 to 30 years of their lives.” Ron chipped in as well, face incredulous.

Tom rolled his eyes at the comment and turned back to look at his white board.

Now he was starting to love this game.

“You see, but you do not observe,” he ignored their sighs and groans, marking the fifth victim with a red marker, “We have our lawyer here. A lawyer usually keeps records of their work. And since our McTaylor worked at a well-known firm, I’d vote, he did. He wrote a lot as well. We have the laptop. The laptop is an old model, still working so there’s also a chance he kept his records in there. Search at his house for any possible journals or diaries. I want his assistants – you hear me, _assistants_ in the past 20 to 30 years of his working period there – to give their accounts. If it turns out McTaylor worked somewhere else before, get those workers as well.”

“This is too much for a Friday.” Blaise groaned, rubbing his face with his palm while Draco, although grunted, wrote down everything Tom said. Tom wandered in front of the white board, hands gestures wild and blue eyes bright.

“We’ve established our murderer as a person with medical skills. He knows how to make a quick stab into the heart for a clean cut murder. One must have had practice, and good knowledge on the structure of the human body to do so. So he’s probably a doctor, or a specialist in heart surgery. This man could probably be in his thirties or older. Except if he’s a very skilled doctor, or a pure genius.” Tom explained some more, and Ron managed to cut in before the investigator continued with his theory.

“So it means that he is either; one, the person who was with the victims on your _date_ ,” here, Tom could almost hear the eye-rolling, “Or two, the one against them. Could be because of revenge. Could be because the murderer wants to wipe out each and every one of them.”

“Smart observation, Weasley, but not smart enough.” Tom commented, and heard Blaise and Draco chuckle while the redhead detective snorted. He drew a new arrow from the big circle of the BM:S and looked at it for a moment. The other three in the room also stared at the implication of his signs and Draco breathed out slowly, but heavily.

“If we can get the date, it can lead us to the sixth victim faster than the Scalpel. It can save a life.”

Blaise nodded, and Ron couldn’t help but to agree as well. They spent another minute staring at the white board, thinking of how they were going to start researching all the possible dates and how tedious the process would be, before Tom suddenly held out his hand, back to them. The three other people in the room looked at him, wondering what other nonsense he was asking for.

“I need Diggory. Get me Diggory.”

 

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I want you to return now. I got a lead for the Scalpel. I’ll see you in 30 minutes.”

“Cedric?” Harry sleepily reached out a hand for his husband, who was starting at his cellphone in shock. The blond suppressed his frustration at his leader, before turning to look at Harry, naked, beautiful, and sleepy in their bed.

He couldn’t help but to chuckle a bit and pressed a small kiss on the tip of his husband’s nose.

“Hey, sweetheart, I know we just got married two days ago but I really need to get back to work now.” Cedric explained softly before getting out from their comfortable bed. He looked for his clothes, which were scattered on the floor after their last night’s escapade, and dumped them in the laundry. He heard Harry sigh loudly, before the younger man turned to look at him with an annoyed pair of big, green eyes.

“It’s Tom, isn’t it? That crazy git.” Harry fumed, making Cedric laugh at his expression. The blond took out his clothes for the day before grabbing his towel, getting ready to take a short shower.

“His brilliant mind can’t do anything about the crime scene without all his ducklings.”

“I’m smacking him the next time I see him. He’d better be ready. Oh, by the way, I’m going out with Harriet today. Her flight to San Francisco is tomorrow, said that she was called in for a big criminal case. I might as well be spending some time with the hotshot lawyer before she leaves.” Harry smiled, looking at the blond investigator. Then he carefully pushed down a bit of the comforter that was hiding the lower part of his naked body, grinning seductively like a Cheshire cat. Cedric couldn’t help but laugh a bit – his laughter was so warm, Harry could feel it rising up the heat on his cheeks –, leaned close to him again and pressed a deep kiss onto his lover. Harry hummed happily, wrapping both arms around Cedric’s neck to pull him down back into bed.

“You know what?” Cedric mumbled, kissing his way down his pale skinned lover, mouthing at his throat like Harry was a delicious meal spread out for him, “Screw 30 minutes. I’m blowing you first.”

Harry laughed.

 

 

In a small restaurant, near the lakeside hotel, which was also at a walking distance to the government hospital and not too far from the CSI office building, a young pretty woman wearing a cream coloured blouse, dark green skirt and her black trench coat placed on the other empty seat, smiled as she sipped on her tea.

Her red lipstick left a stain on the cup, and she carefully wiped the mark off with a napkin.

“Making you run round in circles like a puppy is fun.” She chuckled to herself, thinking about what could possibly be happening at the investigation department close to her position now. Then she turned to look at her cellphone that vibrated, signalling there was an incoming message.

“Hmm.” She tilted her head slightly as she read the message. A smile later appeared on her face as she watched a young man with black hair and still wearing a white labcoat, crossing the street, “The sixth.”

 

 

“One week of this, not going anywhere now.” Draco placed more journals and books on top of Tom’s table, glaring at his superior at the same time. Tom scrutinized the journal he was reading, ignoring Draco who was still standing in front of him. The blond scrunched his nose and groaned loudly.

“Now I can’t wait for the sixth to come out.” He muttered half-heartedly. Cedric shook his head, smiling a bit as he continued reading his portion of books.

“Interesting how the clues worked, isn’t it? The victims have no connection whatsoever except for the Black Market and the slavery auction held there. If we were to give out the hypothesis that the Scalpel killed random five victim from the Black Market, it pushed out the clue regarding their ages. Since all the victims’ ages were varied in between 40 to 50 years old, random killing doesn’t not fit the criterion properly. People aged 30 probably spend much more money on Black Market rather than the 40 to 50 years old. And our victims had, a long time ago, stopped with their activities there. So that one date. Easier said than done.”

“Listening to that from you, Diggory, does sound more wonderful than our mad head there,” Draco muttered, rolling his eyes and opened an old leather-bound book he just picked out from the evidence box. Neville pushed his glasses up from the tip of his nose, sniffing as he read the next page of his journal, and Tom turned his head at him.

“Something wrong, Longbottom?”

“If that something wrong is me and him stolen from our department, then yes.” Ron’s grunt was loud at the left side of the room and Draco barked back. “Have mercy, Weasel, you think we love this?!”

Blaise shook his head resignedly and Neville looked up from his reading, smiling sheepishly.

“Ehh, nothing. I’m just touched by his writing. He wrote good poems.” Neville blushed slightly and Cedric couldn’t help laughing. Tom might have a twitch in his eye at the detective from the FBI department, but everyone thought it was better not to point it out.

Tom Riddle could be quite vicious when someone mentioned he was showing normal human behaviour.

“I found something!”

Every pair of eyes in the room turned to look at Draco as he held out an envelope he found in-between pages of the leather-bound book. Tom nodded at the blond after a moment, and Draco carefully undid the old letter.

“ _Whoever found this letter, I hope the circumstance is that I am no longer alive, as I can’t ever live knowing this secret of mine is now out from the dark._ ” Draco read the first sentence, and then his grey eyes widened.

“18th of August, 1994.” Draco whispered, grey eyes wide and full with surprise, amazement and disbelief, as they slowly looking up at his other partners. Cedric who sat beside him, gaped at the old paper that Draco was holding and the others then quickly shot out from their seats.

“It’s a letter of confession! How smart is that!”

“We got the date! We got the fucking _date_! Finally!”

“God, Draco, why didn’t you pick that book the first day you got your boxes!”

“Hurry, Draco, read the rest!”

Tom watched as everyone in the room gathered around the blond to read the letter together. His blue eyes narrowed, and he looked down at the book in his hand. Somehow, knowing that his theory was right, didn’t make him feel proud and satisfied as how it always did.

There was something nagging at him at the back of his mind. As if there were more to this, and it would not find its end only by them finding the letter.

Tom turned to look outside of the open windows of his office. The tall building he saw not far from there was the government hospital, where Harry is working at. His hands balled in his lap before he slowly closed his book. He took a deep breath and stood up from his seat, to approach his excited ducklings.

Something ugly was coming his way. Tom gritted his teeth and tried his best to stop the restlessness in his heart to stop, because he knew that that something ugly; was only going to get uglier.

 

 

“ _I thought it was going to be a good night. I had my money, so did my friends. We went there to look around the market and there were a lot of people. However, as I walked to this one big room, I was offered to come inside. At first I refused to, this was my first time being in the black market, a well-known, uprising lawyer, I didn’t want to do anything stupid. But the person said ‘You are chosen to come in, not everyone is chosen to come in’, and it piqued my curiosity._

_So I did._

_Inside of the room, there were quite a number of people, wearing expensive clothes like I did for the night, in suits or expensive leather jackets, but I believe there was only one woman I saw there. She was a pretty redhead. Others were men. We sat on the provided chairs, I was seated not far from the pretty redhead and I was the closest one to the altar in the room. The room was quite dim but a bright light was shone upon the altar, so not to make us unable to see things clearly._

_We waited for a few minutes, I checked on my watch, and then the person who invited me in, closed and locked the door. I was quite shocked and scared, but decided to do nothing._

_And then it all started._

_A child was placed on the altar, naked and bound. I saw and heard nothing, as I was too shocked at the situation I had placed myself into. But men and the woman started to bid, and they told the people who guarded the naked child to do things to the child. To ensure the child’s_ innocence _– God, I can’t even make myself write it down. It was the hideous, humiliating and disgusting side of humanity. I can’t even say or do anything to help the child, since after seconds had passed I realized that the men involved in this disgusting activity had guns and weapons with them – and all that I know, after the bid had stopped and selling done, I was the first who ran out from the room._

_This had been ruining my life everyday afterwards, killing me in my dreams and I could only punish myself for not doing anything to help. I refuse to report this, because I am a coward, because I was there for illegal matters and I am not strong enough to let my rising career be ruined for this. I am sorry for letting this happen, for not doing anything to stop them._

_To compensate what I had unable to do, I researched and looked for the people I remember at that night. The clearest name rang in my head, every time I looked at a child, Leonard Till. He won the bid for the child. Then the redhead, Paula Lee. She is the young wife of an old wealthy man. Then there is James Tanner, the prominent one out of those who wore leather jackets that night. He came from money as well. Ian Ward is a traveller, a rich one, but he had been spending a lot of money on sex, drugs and other illegal matters as well. Phillips Carr is a useless junk, probably everything in his life was stolen property since I couldn’t dig deeper about him. James Vaughn is young man freshly graduated from university and working as an engineer._

_I wish, I pray that all these people were saved by their repentance to God before their death, like how I did and still am, because it was hell, knowing how much darkness could swallow someone’s soul, and that there might be no way out from that._

_And if there is any chance that the one who is reading this letter, is the young child I failed to save back then, I am sorry. And please believe me, I’d do anything if I can turn back the time, just to save you from all your helpless suffering._

_Christian Adam McTaylor._ ”

 

 

“Leonard Davidson Till, rich man, but dead. His house burnt down 16 years ago, he was inside with few other people. Almost unidentified. Heard the death was gruesome.” Luna smiled, looking at Tom and Cedric who sat next to her with dreamlike eyes. The two investigators looked at each other before they turned back to her.

“Ian Harold Ward.” Tom’s voice was sharp, but there was a hint of restlessness in there. Cedric wondered what had gotten into the genius’s head, because he was almost machinelike; different and fearless at times.

“Hmm…” Luna typed the name and then clicked the one that almost fit the description the two had given her. She put the data in and waited for the process of the profile filter. Tom leaned against his chair, fingers tapping on his knee and his blue eyes narrowed as he stared at the blond in front of him.

Cedric tried his best to look relaxed and calm, not wanting his panic to show. Then Luna ‘ohh’-ed and they abruptly got close to her.

“His status is unclear. There was no evidence of death, but the last time people saw him was three years ago, in-” Luna started but Cedric cut her in, brown eyes wide, “New York.”

“Here.” Tom whispered softly at the same time, frown marring his handsome face and he frustratingly shook his head.

“Lovegood, get me his information for the past 10 years. Diggory, go to Weasley, tell him to look for him _now_. This could be our sixth… assuming that he’s still alive.” He ordered, at the same time, stood up from his seat and quickly left the room. He made his way to his department, going back to the place where all the evidences were with all his underlings. And somehow, Tom was furious, his heart was beating restlessly because it couldn’t be that _easy_.

That there was a missing piece that Tom is not getting, and he loathed it to his utmost ability.

 

 

Harry got out from his office and smiled at his assistant who was getting ready to go home. Cho smiled back at him.

“Not going home yet?” Cho asked politely, before pointing out at the clock, which shows 11:35 pm.

“I don’t think so. Cedric’s going back late anyway. Might as well just continue with the work here first.” Harry chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. Cho nodded in understanding, laughing as she took off her white coat.

“Okay then, Harry. Whatever you’re doing, just make sure the dead stay dead.”

They laughed at the inside joke of the mortuary, although Harry did feel a bit petrified thinking about the possibility of the said situation. Once the black haired woman left, Harry made his way to the mortuary. The lights on the level were still on, although not many people were wandering around the level at such late night.

The hospital was busy with the Accident and Emergency Department, and Harry watched the active emergency parking site of the hospital from the windows along his way to his operating room. Once he reached the place, he unlocked the door with his card and took the operating chart he kept on top of the small drawers next to an operating bed.

Humming while he rechecked the chart, he turned his back to the unlocked door. Somehow a woman made her way in, smiling as she ran a finger on the sharp point of a scalpel she was holding. Her heeled boots made clicking sounds as she approached the young, unsuspecting doctor.

“Doctor Harry James Potter,” Harry startled, turned to look at the intruder with green eyes, and they quickly widened as he looked down at the sharp knife in her gloved hand. She grinned, perfect white teeth against the ruby red of her painted lips.

“Or is it Doctor Harry James Diggory now?”

 

 

“Dead, _dead_ , this man is _dead_ -”

“No he’s not dead, just missing-”

“McTaylor placed all those names, and the killer had wiped them all clean.” Tom pressed out, teeth gritting as he glared at all his members. Cedric frowned looking at him, and Draco and Blaise looked quite pale. Neville somehow seemed uncomfortable with the situation in the room but he held his ground. Blaise tried again, though, this this slower and with stronger tone.

“Tom, Ian Ward is not verified as dead. He could still be out there. What is wrong with you?” he asked, and Tom rubbed his face with both of his hands.

“Maybe you haven’t get enough sleep-”

“That bastard,” Tom cut Cedric off, and walked toward the open window, “That bastard knows my game. He left us the clues, made sure that the lawyer was the last related victim he killed, but made no reassurance that this would be the last kill. Because he knew the lawyer felt guilty. He knew that the lawyer would have left something in his possession. That letter was not to lead us to the sixth victim but to turn me around in his playground.”

Cedric scrunched his nose, trying his best to absorb what Tom had said before turning to look at others for help. Draco looked paler and he promptly shook his head, as if he finally understanding what was happening but refused to believe it. Tom still standing next to the window, hands fisted and he turned to look at everyone inside of the room.

“That letter was a trap.” Tom’s voice was firm, but the words almost quivered. “It was a trap for us, for _me_ , since we believe in repetition. Now that all the victims are dead, all we have are the newfound records. And our Scalpel hates it. We could see it in the way he killed his victims, leaving no evidence, and leaving no records. So in order to wipe the records of his past, he made us believe that the sixth victim would be related to the previous victims but actually the sixth is…”

Tom’s blue eyes widened in shock and he realized what he himself was implying, and quickly turned to look at the hospital through his windows. Words turned themselves in his mind, everything was blurred, cleared, related, but disconnected at the same time.

Past slavery.

Tom breathed out, blue eyes wide with fear, his voice almost stuck on his throat as it cracked.

“ _Harry_.”

 

 

“FBI!”

Ron kicked open the door to the mortuary operation room, gun in his hands and his team followed after. There was a crashing sound inside of the dim, cold room, and then silence.

“Help…” a familiar voice called out, laced with pain, and Cedric quickly ran towards the direction of the voice. He then found Harry on the floor, next to the operating table lying on its side; both hands trying to staunch the flowing of blood from the wound on the right side of his waist.

“Harry!” Cedric panicked, but slowly and carefully helped his husband to get on his uninjured side of the body. While the blond investigator tended to their victim, Tom had ran towards the other door inside of the room, the one that led to the emergency staircase. The lack of windows indicated that there was no way the murderer had escaped through windows, and since the main door was now blocked by the police, he definitely had taken the way by stairs.

Tom’s long legs sprinted as fast as they could, and he could hear the sound of rushing footsteps going down the stairs as well. He quickly took out his cellphone and rang a number from the list he could press on while still chasing the murderer.

“Hello-” he heard Draco’s voice and something snapped in him.

“Get the emergency staircase entrance blocked! He’s on his way down!” Tom gritted his teeth, anger and frustration overwhelming all his senses. Something screamed in his mind, shouting for him to catch the murderer. He threw away his cellphone, didn’t care where it landed because the only purpose in his life now was to capture the murderer. Once he reached the end of the staircase, Tom almost screamed because the police had just gotten down as well, and didn’t secure the entrance.

The murderer had made his turn to escape directly to the back gate door, and again, Tom wasted no time in chasing him. The lights were off along the road from the gate, making it hard for him to pinpoint his subject but in a second later, he saw the running figure in quite a distance from him. The figure then took an abrupt turn to the left once he got to the end of the main road. Tom ran as fast as he could, he didn’t know how long he had chased over the figure in the dark, but once he took the left turn as well, he was greeted with a sight of an old construction site, with no one around.

 Tom stopped running, almost fell onto his knees but he controlled himself. He gasped for air, looking around the dark and empty site and slowly put his hands on his knees. He leaned his head down, sweat dripping from his face and his face was red.

He couldn’t believe that he almost lost one of the few important people in his life, and that he just lost the murderer again. Even the thought of going back to the hospital, and getting to know that Harry didn’t make it, made him want to smash everything around and just _cry_. He put his face into his palms – his whole body trembling – and then he shouted loudly, his anger fuelling the strength in his words.

“You son of a bitch! I will find you! And when I find you, I will _kill you_ with my own _bare hands_! _You fucker_!”

 

 

“She wore a black mask to cover the upper half of her face, pale white skin. Her hair is dark and I couldn’t see the colour of her eyes. She is around my height and she has a slim body.”

“Okay, you remember anything else?” Ron asked gently, worries written on his face but his hold on his pen was tight, as if he was furious instead. Harry sighed, tiredly shook his head.

“No. She’s strong though. I think the only reason she missed her aim was because I struggled too much for her liking.” Harry answered, his fingers picking on the white blanket on the hospital bed. Cedric sat next to his bed, silent as a statue since they got Harry admitted to the emergency room a few hours ago. Ron wrote down the statement, and then the redhead turned to look at the couple.

“We’ll take the CCTV recording as well, all right. I’m so sorry for disturbing your rest, Harry-”

“I understand, it’s the standard procedure.” The injured doctor smiled gently at his best friend and Ron smiled back at him, though he did look like he wanted to say something more. In the end, Ron just leaned close to Harry and patted him on his head.

“Have a good rest. We’ll take care of everything.” Ron murmured, his eyes dark as he looked down at the pale looking doctor. He nodded to Cedric, who responded with a small, fake smile before he took his leave. Harry closed his eyes, feeling his body starting to shut down after the big incident. He felt his husband moving around and someone sat on his bed, close to his shoulder.

Cedric’s long fingers ran through his hair, making Harry sigh almost happily. He missed the warmth of the older man, but they both knew Harry couldn’t move too much because of his injury. The doctor that operated on him said it was fortunate that the stab wasn’t deep enough. It didn’t injure internal organs, but the time of recovery will take quite a while. Harry wasn’t allowed to walk too much, and preferably to use a wheelchair.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t quick enough.” Cedric started, voice small but filled with guilt. Harry suppressed the need to groan, he somehow knew this was coming and Harry also knew, no matter what he said, Cedric wouldn’t take it easily.

And he was terrified of how he was going to deal with Tom later.

Between the two of them, somehow Cedric had accepted the fact that Tom would always come first before him. It was sick to have your own husband to do that but at the same time it was lovely and understandable as well.

Tom and Harry had been together since they were in university. Being roommates since university – Harry in his first year, Tom in his third – and never leaving each other’s side after that. It was not a surprise when they ended up together as lovers a year afterward. But later, one night after Tom went home bloody but happy, and Harry with tears on his face and anger, they didn’t make it through. Tom left the apartment as Tom, and Harry stayed as Harry. Not as Harry’s Tom, or as Tom’s Harry.

Cedric had always been in the picture; being the second best after Tom. Cedric got straight A’s for his exams because he was smart and hardworking, people like him because of his warm personality. But Tom… Tom was a brilliant man, his years in the university were glorious because of his genius brain and he was passionate about things that he loved. Harry fell in love with that. Not to mention that the man himself was handsome and came from money. But in the end, when it came down to the times when Harry needed help and someone, Tom couldn’t be there.

But Cedric had, he always had.

They became an item a year after Harry and Tom broke it off. Sometimes Harry wondered if Tom and Cedric ever had that awkward moment between them because Cedric was now involved with a person – the only person – Tom had ever admitted being in love with. That Tom had ever slept with. Cedric didn’t seem to mind, and was willing to step down when there were situations that Tom could manage better with Harry than he could.

It was surreal at its best.

“Cedric, it’s okay. I’m fine now.” Harry smiled at him, his green eyes bright under the fluorescent light. Cedric said nothing but his fingers traced Harry’s cheek gently. But then the blond pulled away, his hand fisted into a ball.

“If Tom wasn’t-”

“Cedric, no, please.” Harry pleaded almost pathetically, making the older man turn his head away and took a shaky breath to control himself. The atmosphere in the room was cold, almost too quiet but Cedric was thinking too loud and Harry didn’t like that. However, he stayed in his position, his hand held out to grip onto his husband’s. The blond’s eyes were dark and filled with something that Harry couldn’t put his finger on, but he’d just play along with whatever the man would say afterwards.

“Do you want to see Tom?”

Harry’s green eyes widened as they stared at his husband. But Cedric looked firm and sincere, as if that was something Harry would really need for the time being. Harry opened his mouth to reply, to say how stupid his husband was, to even suggest calling Harry’s former lover to comfort him in the room, rather than Cedric himself.

But no words came out, and Harry was ashamed of himself because the need must be so visible in his eyes, that Cedric could see it so very clearly. The blond leaned down to press a loving kiss on his lips, and then on his forehead, before he whispered gently against Harry’s skin.

“I love you, Harry, and I’d do anything, everything to make you happy. Don’t you ever doubt otherwise.”

Harry shut his eyes tight, trying his best to wipe away the throb in his heart that screamed ‘Tom’ instead of ‘Cedric’ – it had, it _always_ has – and slowly nodded. Cedric pulled away with a smile, nodded back to Harry in understanding before he left the room.

Harry had never felt so alive, and dead, at the same time.

 

 

“Tom, have some please. You look awful.” Hermione chided at him softly, one hand offering him a cup of coffee. She was standing in front of the detective who was sitting down on one of the waiting chairs. Tom had his face in his palms, his elbows on his knees, but refused to look up. Draco and Blaise who were discussing the murder attempt with Ron, looked at him simultaneously. Draco sighed, feeling sorry for the investigator and Blaise shook his head at Hermione.

“It is okay, Granger. Just let him be.” The black man smiled, almost sympathetically and Hermione let out a heavy sigh. They were in a lounge room, just outside of Harry’s private ward, secured with two policemen. Tom had returned back to the hospital building a few hours ago, sweating like he had ran for miles – and he probably did, Blaise mused – and his face was red with anger but his worries were too visible to be hidden. He looked like he wanted to barge into Harry’s operation room, but held himself back strongly because Cedric was there as well.

And looking at Cedric Diggory being angry enough to kill someone to be weird was an understatement. Cedric Diggory was your typical neighbourhood boy, who helped the grandparents cross the roads, greeted everyone on his way to school with friendly smiles, and offers candies to the other kids in the area when he was on his way home from the shop.

Cedric Diggory was the handsome, tall blond guy with a kind smile, warm eyes and heartfelt laughter. And seeing Cedric Diggory getting angry was the signal that whoever he was getting those glares at, they would not make it out alive once the blond got them.

And Tom, well, Tom was Tom. You mess with Tom; Tom would get you, and get you good. The same way Tom burnt the one semester’s worth of assignment belonging to a senior who tried to bully him in their university years – keyword, _tried_ –, and the same way Tom formatted Blaise’s full-with-work hard drive for spreading the rumour that Tom and Harry were in a relationship – they hadn’t yet at the time so Harry was a little bit upset, and an upset Harry led to a pissed off Tom –. In fact, it was Blaise’s habit of spreading rumours that made them end up together – he hadn’t gotten thanks for that yet, anyway –.

And now Tom looked like someone just killed his puppy, and Cedric was inside the room with the love of their lives. Blaise couldn’t feel any more awkward with their love triangle or whatever they were calling it.

Blaise was about to come close and comfort their leader when his cellphone suddenly rang. He blinked his eyes, excused himself from Ron and Draco before he went to answer his phone. It was the head of the CSI department.

“Shit.” Blaise cursed, distressed. They rarely got calls from the head, so it must be important.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Blaise Zabini?” Blaise involuntarily gulped, listening to the familiar voice, and casted a glance at Tom’s direction. Tom was still in the same position, face hidden, body posture tense.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good, this is Dumbledore speaking. I can’t get the hang of Tom, why is that?” Blaise tried to laugh it off but it came out as a nervous chuckle. Draco seemed to realize his situation, as the blond slowly approached him with a frown on his face. The blond raised his eyebrow at him, and Blaise mouthed ‘Dumbledore’. The expression on Draco’s face might as well said ‘what the fucking hell?’

“I’m not sure. Do you want to talk to him?” Blaise made a face when Draco crossed his arms to signal ‘no’ and then motioned cutting his throat with his thumb.

Blaise scrunched his eyes in understanding.

Right. Tom. Bad mood. Suicide.

“But he’s not available now, he just went out,” Blaise continued, lies coming out from his mouth smoothly as possible, although he was still nervous from talking with the head department. “I can pass through any messages though.”

He heard silence from the other end of the before a long sigh.

“Mr. Zabini, I have heard of the recent murder attempt by the person that your team had been following for almost a year now. And this time it was Mr. Harry Potter, who is associated with us for the forensic operation.” Blaise wanted to correct his superior about Harry’s new last name but held his tongue. It wouldn’t do him good when he somehow knew a bad news is coming on their way. “I am inclined to believe, that this operation of finding the serial murderer of five victims and one murder attempt, must change hand.”

“What-” Blaise almost squeaked when his cellphone was abruptly taken away from him by Tom, “ _Dumbledore_.”

Tom’s voice was slow and deliberate, cold and his murderous aura almost choked everyone inside the room. Draco and Blaise were quick to step back when Tom started to pace in front of them. They heard vaguely Dumbledore greeting Tom back and then started to explain his motive of calling them.

Based on Tom’s expression, Blaise and Draco believed someone was going to get killed in here. And that someone would not be Tom. Because he’d do the killing.

“ _No._ ” Tom snarled into the phone, and the duo behind him almost stepped back quickly until their backs hit the safety of the wall. “But Tom, Severus and his team perhaps can handle the case better, they are more senior-”

“This is my case, you hear me? I’ve been in for this case since the very start of it, you have no right to pull it off and give it to another team just because they are more senior than mine.”

“With more experience, and _rationality_ , my boy.”

“Fuck _rationality_.”

“Wrong move, Riddle,” Draco shook his head, face pale, “Wrong move.”

“I hope you understand that I am not doing this for my own amusement. This is the sixth victim and you are not able to handle it the way you did yours before. I am worried that the stress and pressure have put you in no better condition,” Tom opened his mouth, probably to snarl or bark another reply, but Dumbledore’s voice was firm over the phone, finality visible in his tone.

“I am giving away this case to Severus’s team. Please consider yours out from the circle. Once you get back to the office, meet me-” Tom ended the call abruptly and threw the phone away to Blaise, who rushed to catch it before it fell to the ground. He ran his fingers through his hair and gripped it hard, frustrated snarls escaping from his gritted teeth as he continued to pace.

“That bastard. That fucking bastard.”

Hermione, Ron, Blaise and Draco watched tentatively as the usually calm and indifferent investigator paced repeatedly in the middle of the room.

“The murderer played me once, threw me off my game and finally when I’m back on my feet, that fucking old bastard is ruining it all. This is a long planned murder. That woman knows how to play her cards, she has been waiting for all these things to fall according to her plan and it wouldn’t take long for us to _crush_ them down. And now all the hard work are going to fucking Snape’s hands and fuck, I’d kill that old bastard when I see him-”

“Tom.”

Tom stopped in the middle of his anger rant, froze as he heard Cedric call out his name. He turned to look at the blond, and had to take a shaky breath to calm himself first before he answered him. Cedric’s brown eyes were darker than usual, as if he was contemplating something and Tom knew very much what it was.

“Harry?” he breathed out instead, and the blond nodded his head. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, as if they were taking their time to add something else with that. The other occupants of the room watched their interaction with fake disinterest, but their eyes were keen, not missing the unspoken interaction between them. In which Cedric perhaps was telling Tom to take care of Harry, and Tom perhaps had replied with ‘definitely’.

Tom took another deep breath; his hands expertly styled his hair back into perfection and straightened his clothes before he patted his own cheeks to get some of the frustration out. A minute later, Tom left the lounge room and slowly, but quietly entered Harry’s ward, and when Cedric turned to look at Hermione and the rest, they offered him awkward smiles. The blond responded back with one of his nice fake smiles, before he turned to take his leave as well. Probably to liberate all the anger inside of him before he kill someone with it.

“How fucking awkward was that?” Draco muttered under his breath and Blaise nodded. “Tell me about it.”

Ron turned to them, pain evident in his expression. “Sooo… who wants to call Harry’s sister?”

The other three including Hermione paled a little, given out how high tempered Harriet could be, this would not be a pretty emergency call.

 

 

Harry was sleepy, he was tired trying to be killed and it has been more than 20 hours since he last got some real rest. But the promise of having Tom with him made him stubbornly stay awake. The room was dark, since Cedric had closed the curtains and the main light. Only the fluorescent light above Harry’s bed was on.

Harry didn’t hear it when Tom entered the room not long after Cedric left. So he was almost startled from his half asleep state when Tom suddenly spoke out.

“Remember when you were in your last year at the university, I met up with you at the faculty’s library and heard someone called you ‘a fairy’?”

Harry turned to look at Tom, who was leaning against the wall near the door, arms crossed. His face was frowning, and it was bad because Harry could see it even without his contact lenses. Tom took his lack of response as a signal for him to continue his story.

“I punched the boy on his face and broke his nose.”

Harry couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips, and gently patted the spot on his bed.

“You were lucky the boy didn’t press charge.”

“He deserved it.”

“You did it in the library, the public, Tom.”

“To my utmost satisfaction.” Tom grinned as he took a seat on Harry’s bed. His blue eyes, as sharp and calculating as they always were, looked down into Harry’s eyes. Harry almost squirmed at the attention and Tom’s eyes somehow softened.

“Is there any intention behind going on that memory lane?” Harry whispered almost inaudibly, causing Tom to look away for a bit. His hands were on his lap, as if they didn’t know where they should go, and what they should touch.

“What I am saying is that… I- I should have protected you today, as how I did before.” Tom voiced out and suddenly, the air inside of the room turned tense, and it was slowly becoming thick and thicker until Harry could just cut the air with a knife. Harry stared at the older man on his bed, his green eyes blinked disbelievingly but Tom looked so serious he could hurt himself.

Then Harry did the unthinkable; he laughed.

Tom turned to look at him, looked vaguely offended.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I’m just, hahaha, I just don’t get it why, everyone think I’m a damsel in distress- oww, oww,” his winces got Tom’s intention more than his reasoning, when the older man leaned forward to check on him.

“Don’t laugh, you fool, you’ll tear open your wound-”

“See? Now I’m a foolish damsel in distress.”

Tom sighed exasperatedly but stopped moving his hands that were checking on Harry’s injury, when Harry’s hand touched his cheek. He looked up at the love of his life, blinking his eyes slowly when Harry’s green eyes met his, and the black haired doctor looked like he was about to say something.

Then Harry slowly shook his head, and gave a small, shaky smile.

“Tom?” he called out softly instead. Tom gazed at him, and slowly leaned into Harry’s palm after realizing that it was trembling a little.

“I’m scared...” the young doctor admitted softly, his voice almost unheard in the dark room but Tom heard him just fine. Tom always heard him just fine. Then he continued with a croaky voice, “And they are not making it better.”

Tom closed his eyes shut, and placed his hand to cover Harry’s on his cheek.

“Harry,” he gritted his teeth and then pressed a deep kiss on Harry’s centre palm. The doctor looked like he was about to break, causing Tom to lean down and pressed their foreheads together. Harry’s green eyes looked cloudy and Tom missed them to the core of his heart. And no matter how possessive and protective Tom was, he knew the boundary. Harry had put it down between them when he chose Diggory over him.

No matter how much Tom wanted to kiss and comfort him like they were before, Harry was not his anymore.

Harry seemed to realize that as well, but he still leaned into Tom and pressed their lips together.

There was nothing about it; about sparks and fireworks and chemistry that explodes when you kissed the one that you love, when your lips meet and you couldn’t pull away no matter how much you want to, no matter how wrong it was. But when Harry kissed Tom and their hands found each other’s cheeks, both not wanting to let go, pull away just to breath and then they kissed again, Harry felt the Earth _move_.

As if this was the thing he had been doing his whole life. As if being with Tom was something so real and normal, and how Tom fitted into his life, Harry could never able to explain.

Harry gasped for breath when Tom pulled away for the third, fourth, he had lost count, and then Tom leaned down to kiss his neck and collarbone. His kisses were fierce but gentle, minding Harry’s injury, and at the same time, causing Harry to grip his hair tight and moaning wantonly. Tom growled before going back to ravish his mouth.

“We should,” pull back, gasp, “Stop this,” more gasp and licks, “You’re inju-” Harry’s hands pulled Tom back to kissing his mouth. Once they had enough – for now, for now, they chanted in their heads – kisses, they looked at each other with half lidded eyes and heavy breaths. Harry looked debauched, swollen lips and cloudy green eyes, but those eyes were glassed with tears, and Tom leaned down to kiss him gently on his forehead.

“I got you Harry, I got you,” Tom murmured, kissing down to Harry’s cheek when tears started to fall and Harry finally lost it. He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip, ignoring the tears on his red cheeks that Tom was kissing away but his hands were firm as they gripped on Tom’s shirt.

“I got you,” Tom whispered again, fiercely and Harry laughed a bit through his tears, pulling him back down to kiss Tom again with his tear stained lips, “Okay, Tom, okay,”

Tom smiled softly into the kiss and complied like how he always did with Harry;

With love.

 

 

It has been more than two months since the last accident where Harry got stabbed by a serial murderer.

The highlight of the accident was when Harriet barged into Harry’s ward the next day, still wearing her black and white court suit, green eyes dark and blazing. She took the nearest flight available once she got the news, once she checked the voicemail after her court session was finished.

Tom might had been yelled at, Cedric was glared at – the kind of glare that made you wanted to dig a hole and jump into it yourself – and the murderer perhaps had gotten herself a chain of creative on-the-spot created cusses. The other Potter was fuming in anger, although her worries finally won it over.

Blaise quoted, and never said that he didn’t like how Tom’s face paled a little: “Where’s the magnificent brilliance you’ve been talking about your whole life, you slow, brainless, narcissist!”

Tom might or might not have responded with “I’m not a narcissist, I’m a born genius!”

(He did reply with that. Harriet was _not_ amused.)

Harry was the one who stopped the angry banter, so much for Blaise and Draco’s excitement.

The case however, had changed hands, from Tom’s to Snape’s, and almost everyone in the crime scene investigation department had to suffer through Tom’s bad mood for weeks. He got over it anyhow, when Dumbledore gave him another case. But the case was quickly closed, which was within days because Tom said and Blaise quoted, “I am too brilliant for this kind of murderer-with-no-brain case.”

He complained, and he whined about it at times, but at least he didn’t glare at a new member of the department until she cried, and made Draco, Blaise and Cedric did paperwork for two weeks straight anymore as how he did earlier.

Draco was so close to kill Tom. Or himself. Or both.

And Blaise, being the patient, little duckling he was, only managed to sigh from time to time.

Cedric was like always, did his work perfectly, no complaining and lived his life as if nothing had happened. But he had to take care of Harry, who was on leave from work for one month, and that had taken a toll on him. Still, Blaise somehow found it scary when he accidentally saw Cedric standing alone in a room, or looking out the window, with that unfamiliar gleam in his eyes.

It was as if he was still working on the Scalpel case, was still trying to pinpoint the Scalpel’s location, since the woman almost caused him his husband’s death. It was unnerving how almost losing someone could effect a kind soul.

Anyhow, not having the Scalpel case in their hands – the one that they had been working on for more than a year – was strange. It left an itch at the back of their heads, that nagging feeling that they only need a little bit more time to finish it off. And to see Severus Snape’s team working on it from their office, irked them a little. Tom usually brushed them off every time he saw them working and discussing about it in their own section, but his body posture was stiff and his hands fisted. Blaise got it, there was one time in the last few months where he didn’t get any sleep for three days because he was working on the case, and now those sleepless nights felt worthless.

He knew the other team could do better than them at this point. Harry’s accident made Tom and Cedric too involved, and emotions were not a good thing when they were supposed to conduct the matter with professionalism. And seeing how hard Tom had worked on their Scalpel – who turned out to be a woman – the accident only added fuel to his fire.

It was almost… unbecoming.

Blaise shook his head, blinking his eyes when he realized he had been dozing off for a moment. He turned to look at his table, where the old laptop belonged to Christian McTaylor was still on it. Snape’s team members didn’t ask for it and Blaise stared at it for a while. He could just give it to them now but they were away for some research, so he placed it in an empty box. He’d just put it back to the evidence room by tomorrow, Blaise mused.

Draco was typing down the report for their latest case – murder, daughter killed stepfather because of sexual harassment – and Blaise hummed quietly.

“Draco?”

“Yeah?” the blond replied, absentmindedly as he continued to type on his computer. Tom was in his own office, their rooms separated by glass wall but Blaise could see that he was busy, and Cedric was doing his work on his table, face serious and concentrated, so Blaise lowered down his voice and pushed his chair a bit so that it strolled closer to Draco.

“When do you think the Scalpel would strike again?”

This got the blond’s attention, because his hands stopped moving and his grey eyes narrowed at the computer’s screen. Blaise took this as the indication for him to continue speaking.

“It has been two months since she attacked Harry. And usually she took about two to three months, doesn’t she? And since Tom assumed she doesn’t have anymore victims related to black market to kill, if she strikes, who-”

“Blaise, this is no longer our case.” Draco’s voice was harsh, quiet, but Blaise could almost see the gears turning in his mind. Draco was never a patient man, but he thinks critically and his eyes were sharp in picking out details. He took pictures of the crime scene, because most of the time, he saw mere, small details that led to big occurrences, rather than the big, obvious ones. Blaise suppressed the urge to sigh, and slowly shook his head.

Not their case anymore.

“Okay.” The black man nodded, moving back to his table and continued with his work. Draco sat unmoving, staring at the computer’s screen and his fingers flexed themselves before he balled them into fists.

But both Draco and Blaise didn’t know that Cedric’s brown eyes had been watching them for a while, and how he somehow focused on the evidence box on top of Blaise’s table, before he turned back to read his paperwork.

 

 

“Mmm…” Harry kissed Cedric passionately, his fingers running through his blond hair as his husband pushed him deeper into the matters at hand. Harry was reduced to being almost naked, but Cedric still got his clothes on except for his tie and cufflinks. Cedric pulled away from the kiss and slowly pressed butterfly kisses along Harry’s neck. Harry laughed a bit, turning away but his hands were a tight grip on his husband’s hair.

“You’re feeling better now?” Cedric murmured against his skin, his palms warm as they touched him and Harry arched against his body.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Harry touched his husband’s cheeks and pulled him up into another kiss. Cedric closed his eyes and tried to focus, but he couldn’t. He abruptly pulled away and Harry fell back on the mattress with wide, confused eyes, breathless at the same time. Cedric rubbed his face with his palm, leaning back and sitting down on the bed instead.

“Cedric?” Harry called out slowly, hesitancy clear in his voice and Cedric turned to look at him. He saw the scar on Harry’s skin and his usually bright and lively brown eyes, turned dark and indifferent. Harry seemed to realize what was going on, so he quickly sat up as well and touched his husband’s shoulder.

“Cedric…” Harry quietly murmured against his neck, causing the blond to sigh heavily. He looked over his shoulder and pressed a loving kiss on his temple.

“You’re thinking too much,” Harry continued, his own arms wrapping around Cedric’s neck from behind, “I’m okay, I’m all right. I even got a police guarding me at work from time to time now.”

Cedric shook his head, looking to the front and gripped the blanket tight with his fists. Harry watched silently, his own green eyes focused on Cedric’s tense body posture. They sat in silence for a moment, and Harry wondering whether they were going back to sex afterwards or not. Cedric had been too distant these past few weeks. When he looked at Harry, Harry could just see it in his eyes that he was thinking about things, and Harry didn’t even need to ask to know what they were. Those were the eyes of a wary man, of a man filled with vengeance and the need to kill.

Harry had lived with Tom for a long time to know such eyes. And now, even Tom refused to talk to him for more than 5 minutes. Those 5 minutes, in fact, actually Tom asking him whether he was all right or not. And then those blue eyes.

Harry didn’t know how to handle two of this at the same time.

“Harry,” Harry looked at Cedric when his name was called, and saw Cedric smiling a bit at him. Harry knew that smile as well.

“I need to go. You just get your rest first, all right?” Harry’s green eyes widened and he stared up at his husband while Cedric fixed himself.

“What?! I thought we’re going to have sex!” Harry whined, didn’t care how childish he sounded at the moment but no sex for two months was just _maddening_. Cedric somehow chuckled at his interjection, and the blond leaned down to kiss him hungrily for a few minutes. Harry shut his eyes close, his hands gripped on Cedric’s shoulders as he kissed him back.

Then Cedric pulled back again and Harry was left whining at the loss of contact.

“I’ll come back, I just need to take a short walk, to calm myself down.” Cedric murmured, pressing kisses against Harry’s face and the doctor sighed happily. His grip on his husband’s shoulders loosened and Cedric pressed a last kiss on his forehead.

“And when I come back, I’ll fuck you hard into the mattress until I get you pregnant.” Cedric chuckled, the tease warm on his words and Harry rolled his eyes at him, but nevertheless laughed as well.

 

 

Tom sat alone in his office; the new case he just got two days ago was now closed. He threw away the file carelessly towards his table, not caring where it landed. Then he turned to look at the empty meeting room outside of his personal office.

It was the room where all his team members gathered to discuss and share their information. A room for them to let out their critical thinking skills and talent. His underlings’ tables are just outside of the meeting room as well, and the room adjoined one side to his personal office, but separated by glass wall.

He stared at it for a while, remembering the first time he entered the department as one of the young detectives, instead of a head detective for a team. Tom was a stubborn, impatient man, and every case they got, he handled most of them by himself because for him, his other team members were just too _slow_.

Case after case, day after day, he went through the painful period of being an underling, because he knew by doing this, he could get promoted as soon as possible. He knew Albus Dumbledore, knew about his special ability. Knew about his brilliance, and quick and critical thinking. Dumbledore was the one who took him in from the FBI department after he solved a case right in front of him.

Sometimes, Tom was grateful to meet the old man. He helped Tom to get what he wanted; a team of his own, all members which Tom had the discretionary power to pick himself. Tom took in Cedric Diggory, an acquaintance from his university years who impressed him once or twice by his skills. And then Blaise Zabini, one year younger than him and also an acquaintance. Draco Malfoy was by accident. He watched the blond from afar for a few months before he called him in, because no matter how good Draco was at his work, he used to be an impatient and hot tempered police. Tom was like that as well but he never let his emotions mixed with his professionalism.

But in the end, the team was as good as how Tom expected. And when Harry got accepted as an associate in forensic department, everything was almost complete.

Tom blinked his eyes and slowly looked at the closed envelope on one side of his table. The day he entered Dumbledore’s office and met Severus Snape inside as well, something burned inside of him. He felt as if the thing that he had held so tight in his hands was going to be stolen away. And stolen away, it did.

The envelope contained an official letter to discharge his team out from the Scalpel case and Tom loathed it so much. He’d burnt it if he could but he knew doing so would not change a thing. Severus’s team was a senior team, and they had handled big serial murderer cases before, but Tom believed the Scalpel case was his case; it did not belong as one of Snape’s.

Tom took the envelope and put it inside a drawer.

He didn’t need to think about it anymore, the case was no longer his, no matter how much Tom wanted it to be otherwise.

Suddenly the sound of the glass door to the office room being pushed open surprised him. He turned his blue eyes at the intruder, and saw Cedric walked in instead. The blond realized his presence as well and he gave him a nod and a smile. Tom nodded back and looked down at his unfinished paperwork on his table. Somehow from the corner of his eye, he realized Cedric was wearing a jacket and he was alone, he didn’t even bring anything along with him. Tom leaned back into his chair and watched silently as the blond approached his table to take some files. Then he walked to Draco’s table to place one of the documents from his table to Draco’s. Tom watched him for another moment before he looked back and continued with his own work. Diggory was being himself, nothing weird with him coming back to the office late at night to settle some small stuff. And the blond seemed like he didn’t care whether Tom was watching him or not, too.

When he finished, he turned to give Tom another nod and a smile again, and then left the office with a box in his arms.

Tom stared until he went out and then turned to look at the open windows of his office. In the dark of the night, he thought he saw a figure – a man – looking back to their office building level. Tom frowned, he couldn’t see the face since the man was standing halfway in the dark and only half of his form was visible. He leaned closer to the window and blinked his eyes when the figure suddenly disappeared.

Slowly Tom turned to look back at the same door which Cedric had went through, and something cold ran through his nerves.

 

 

“She killed the victim. You saw her long fingernails? She’s a high class prostitute. There’s no way a high class prostitute would have chipped fingernails. The only reasons she chipped her fingernails were because she was involved in a struggle, or was gripping on something heavy without any precaution, which in this case we can easily conclude as the murder weapon; the metal chair. The chemical red you got mixed with the victim’s blood on his head belonged to her red nail polish when she checked on his injuries. Check her alibi again for the night of the murder, everyone that agreed that she was in her room at that time were her friends. It’s not valid, friends help each other out. Especially when it comes to dirty stuff. And we’re talking about these people who won’t even care what’s legal or not. They’re prostitutes and he’s a customer! She knew his house and she even has the spare key, don’t fall for her ugly tears, Good Lord why are you guys so stupid-”

“Tom,” Draco cut him off, face frustrated. “You might want to shut up.”

The detective who was standing in front of them, and also the one who was handling the case, glared at Tom as if he could just kill the man on the spot. Cedric rubbed the back of his neck while looking down at the pale-faced female prostitute who sat down next to the table. They were in an investigation room, in which Tom got called in because he was complaining too much.

The head police for the case continued to glare at Tom, “Thank you for your speculation, Detective Riddle. I’ll take over the case from here.”

Tom rolled his eyes, already on his way out from the room, while Draco and Cedric stayed back. Probably to help more with the research after Tom’s theory, although they both knew Tom had never has any missteps in his work before. Tom strolled out from the room and headed to his office when he passed Blaise. The man looked confused at his appearance and turned to call him just when Tom about to enter the safety of his room – safety from idiocy, that is –.

“Hey, Tom, have you seen a box on my table? I’m supposed to send it back to the Evidence Room yesterday,” Blaise asked, brown eyes blinking and Tom shook his head as he entered his room.

“No.” he shut down the door, locked it and then sighed heavily.

He needed back his Scalpel case. God, he felt like a girl who hadn’t able to move on from her break-up, Tom made a face at his own thoughts and promptly shook his head. He should get back to work, he mused afterward.

Cedric watched the clock on the wall and then back to Draco who was filling his coffee from the machine. When Blaise came to join them for a short rest as well, Cedric leaned back against the wall and relaxed his posture.

“I think I’ll go back home early today. Right at 5.” He announced to his two other partners and they turned to look at him. Draco sipped on his coffee and shrugged. “I don’t think Tom would mind. I mean, look at the guy.”

Draco rolled his eyes when he remembered back at early situation with Detective Mad-Eye. Blaise chuckled next to him as he filled his own cup with tea.

“You got dinner plan with Potter tonight?”

Cedric smiled, his brown eyes brightened bit. “Yes, but he’s working a late night shift, so I just want to be prepared. And it’s ‘Diggory’ now, Blaise.” Blaise laughed at the correction, and then turned to look at his fellow partners. From his position, he could see out to the open windows that the sky was getting dark. Probably it would start raining by the evening.

“Can’t help it, he’s been ‘Potter’ for all the years I’ve known him before. But ‘Diggory’ does have a nice ring on it.” The black man winked his eye at the tall blond and Cedric shook his head, amused by the response. Draco finished his drink in one gulp and threw it away into the waste basket. He ran his hair through his white blond hair and sighed heavily.

“Let’s get back to work.”

 

 

Cedric sat quietly in an old room. His own laptop open beside an old laptop he was working over with. He had taken out the hard disk from the old laptop, put it into a universal external base and connected it to his own laptop. He rechecked every document inside of the hard disk, brown eyes sharp as he went through the system. In his laptop, there were also the files he still kept for the Scalpel murders, and even through the windowless walls, he could hear the raindrops.

The empty room he was in for the moment belonged to the CSI department. It was used to conduct secret research or to find cover. For now it wasn’t being used for anything, and the room was in an abandoned apartment building. It was close to their office building and Cedric thought it was a good thing, in case he got any information regarding the Scalpel there.

“McTaylor was a lawyer. The laptop was found in his office. But the laptop was an old model. Why is it an old model? He’s a well-known lawyer, why stick to an old model?”

Cedric muttered to himself as he got into the system enquiry. He opened every document and files available for any clue relating to the killer. When he found nothing, he leaned back against his wooden seat, eyes narrowed. As far as he knew about the fifth victim, the man was smart, and cunning. He left clues in between his book pages before, believing that someone would at least think the way he did. Cedric looked back at the screen, opening a new document on his own file and saw the date stated on the letter they found.

“18th of August, 1994. 18/08/1994.” Cedric murmured quietly and reopened the searching box for the old hard disk. His fingers flexed on top of the typing pad before he typed down the numbers in his head. He clicked enter and no files was found. Biting his lower lip, Cedric shook his head and entered another form of numbers.

“49910881.”

“3 files are found.”

Cedric let out a small grin on his face and looked at the files found. There were a recording, a system text document, and a document. Cedric moved the mouse arrow toward the last choice and then froze his fingers.

McTaylor was a lawyer. He knew the murderer was going to find him, so he used an old laptop because then it would be hard for the murderer to find any documents related to her inside of his laptop. But McTaylor was smart. He wouldn’t put any important document as a document. He’d put it as something else.

As something that people wouldn’t think about clicking.

Cedric clicked on the system text document and a small box with black background came out. Usually it would show a program data for a software but in the file that Cedric just clicked, there was a written document.

His brown eyes widened for a moment, and then he swiftly started to read the document. It was written and left by McTaylor, regarding the victim on the said date. He explained everything about the child since he had made a research on the poor kid, and somehow as Cedric read it, his blood went cold and his eyes widened even more in surprise and dread.

“Damn, damn,” Cedric cursed and quickly took out his cell phone. He dialled Tom’s number and cursed under his breath when the call went into voicemail. He quickly stood up from his chair and took his jacket, ready to leave the room and to go back to his office. The evidence was just too apparent, and this could be the thing that would lead them to the capture of the Scalpel.

He left a voice message to Tom, at the same time trying his best to gather back all the evidence and return to the office with them. His heart was beating so fast Cedric thought he could die from a heart attack. They had underestimated things and such small details, somehow managed to turn back the table against the murderer, and to their favour. If only Tom would just answer his call instead, Cedric gritted his teeth and tersely ended the voice message. And then, something – _someone_ , Cedric took a sharp breath – caught the corner of his eyes and his blood ran cold.

“You outsmarted us.”

Cedric abruptly turned at the voice, his brown eyes wide as he looked at the woman who was standing next to the only door to the room. It was impossible, Cedric thought with surprise, the only people who knew about the room were those from the department. The woman’s face still darkened by the dim light in the room and slowly Cedric placed his cellphone down, and took his gun out from the back of his belt.

He pointed the gun at the murderer.

“Show your face.” He gritted his teeth and the woman laughed cheerily.

“What’s the matter, Diggory?” she sing-songed and Cedric unlocked the safety of his gun.

“I’ll shoot you.” He snarled, but then a sound at the back of the room surprised him. Cedric quickly put a safe distance between him and the woman, and turned the gun at the other intruder. His whole body tensed and suddenly, he remembered the surprise late night dinner he was supposed to make for Harry tonight. He needed to get back home and make dinner, Cedric tried to calm himself, although he was trapped inside a room without no windows and only one locked way out.

“Show yourself.” He called out, anger coursing through his nerves, but when the other person made himself known, Cedric’s eyes widened in shock and he let out a shaky gasp.

“No… no, _hell no_.”

 

 

“They heard a gunshot. And when we got in, we found him exactly like this.” The police officer explained to Tom as Tom stared at a dead body of one of his team members. Draco and Blaise were standing behind him as they watched with wide eyes, and Tom didn’t need to see how pale and heartbroken they look like.

The blond was in a sitting position on the ground, legs straightened out, leaning against the wall, with his head bowed down. He was in his day outfit, his jacket just next to him with his gun as well. There was no evidence of a struggle, only a wound on his chest, right where his heart was positioned. There was not even a dot of blood on his face. The table inside of the room was empty and Tom had to look away to control himself.

His hands curled and uncurled into fists, and Tom shut his eyes close to stop the anger from escaping his mind. He stepped back a bit, looking at the other parts of the room except for the still warm dead body, and from the corner of his eyes, he watched Draco approach the blond and checking the wound with gloved hands.

He heard Draco let out a shaky, heavy sigh before the shorter blond’s voice was heard in the room.

“It’s the Scalpel.”

 

 

“A call for Doctor Harry James Diggory,” a nurse from the reception table called out for him as he walked out from the lift. He was still in his scrubs and gloves, sweat dripping from his forehead and hair as he was paged to go to the main counter to take an emergency call.

“Yes?” Harry blinked his eyes and walked toward the reception table. The nurse nodded her head at him and smiled, her hand offering him the telephone. Harry took off his gloves and placed it down on the countertop before looking back at the young nurse. He stared at the telephone for a moment, green eyes narrowed in suspicion and he slowly took it from her, giving away a small uncomfortable smile in response as well.

“Hello, Doctor Harry Diggory speaking,” Harry answered with a small voice and had to take a deep shaky breath when he heard the other person on the line introduced himself as a detective from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He looked at the white wall in front of him, nodding when the detective asked whether Cedric Diggory was his husband or not, knowing at the same time the detective couldn’t see him but by then it didn’t really matter.

When the word he had expected from the first time he heard the nurse calling out his name came out, he felt the whole world turn blank.

The phone fell from his hand, crashed to the ground and Harry slowly closed his eyes. Everything around him went silent in his ears, only the soft beating of his heart was clear and Harry had to lean back against the counter in order not to collapse.

He heard the nurses asked him whether he was all right but he couldn’t focus on anything else rather than the fact that Cedric was now dead; leaving him with promises and everything he thought he had escaped by leaving Tom behind.

 

 

“He was… he did acted a little bit weird since the last two months. Since my accident with the Scalpel. I thought he’d get over it. Maybe he’d start thinking clearly and just leave the case be.” Harry stated slowly, green eyes dull as they looked at Ron’s. Ron looked back at him, the sympathy too clear on his face and the redhead nodded his head in response.

“When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“Yesterday morning, before he went to work. We talked a bit in the kitchen, as usual. He asked what time I’ll be back and I told him I’ll leave for the hospital around noon, and my shift ends around midnight. Nothing seems off.” Harry explained some more, while Draco and Blaise turned to look at each other. The two of them remembered the surprise dinner at home for his husband that the late blond told them about, and Cedric did leave early to get prepared for the dinner.

They kept quiet, though. There was no use to rub more salt to the wound. Tom stood at the back of the interrogation room, arms crossed against his chest and his expression indifferent. Once Ron was finished with the session, he led Harry out from the room, where Harriet and Hermione were waiting for them.

The young lawyer carefully pulled her brother into a hug, and Harry let her without responding to it. His head however, rested against Harriet’s shoulder, and his body shook slightly. Harriet looked over Harry’s shoulder at the other detectives, her similar green eyes worried and the rest of them tried their best to avoid looking at them.

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, close to tears, while Ron stood beside her with his arm around her waist.

“After the post mortem, we‘ll send the body to you as soon as possible. We’ll call you.” Ron said, arm tightening around his girlfriend. Draco and Blaise murmured their condolences to Harry before they quietly left. Tom stayed inside the room, still unable to give the suitable response to the situation they were in now.

He wanted to be close to Harry, comforting him, but at the same time, he wanted to hunt down and murder whoever it was that killed one of his best team members. Tom clenched his hands into fists, pocketing them inside of his trench coat and he let out a heavy, shaky sigh.

But somehow, Tom thought that Harry would lose it when he received the news of his husband’s death. Because this was what Harry tried so hard to prevent when they were together. Harry always had this mentality that one day, Tom was going to die and he would be the last to know. Seeing this situation running over his head, but with Cedric as the victim, made Tom wanted to grip onto Harry and never let him go. Ever again.

Because if Tom were to be killed next, he’d prefer to spend the last living moments of his life with Harry instead of away.

 

 

Harry quietly took out his shirts from the wardrobe. It was around three in the morning and he just arrived home an hour before. Slowly he placed the shirts in the open luggage on top of his bed, face sombre while thinking how long it would take for the post mortem to end. He would have to settle the funeral later and Draco had told him they would clear up Cedric’s belongings at the office for him.

Harry closed his eyes and faced the wardrobe again. Harriet had gone back to the hotel she was staying. She insisted to keep him company but Harry refused her gently. The others seemed to think that the only thing they could offer him at the moment was some privacy.

But he couldn’t stay in the house. It felt so wrong when Cedric wasn’t there as well, and his movements were almost lifeless as he packed up all his things.

“Harry.”

Harry abruptly stopped his actions. He blinked his eyes, and turned to look at the doorway to his bedroom. Tom was standing there, still in his office attire and his face indifferent. He was leaning against the doorframe, body stiff but he was trying so hard to conceal it. Harry almost found it funny, how he didn’t have it in him to state the obvious to the older man, considering their history together that had made Harry almost immune to all his actions. But instead, Harry just stared at him for a minute – his green eyes met Tom’s blue –, and he was undeniably, actually, unable to utter any words at all.

“How did you get in?” Harry asked quietly after a while, voice almost cracking from emotions, when the atmosphere in the room is no longer drowning him in its darkness. Harry refused to pull away from Tom’s eye-contact – from his presence – but at the same time, couldn’t help but to question his sudden appearance. Tom gratefully, didn’t even look guilty, only concern was visible in his usually masked blue eyes, and somehow, it almost brought Harry to tears.

“You didn’t lock the door, stupid, what if,” Harry could almost hear the sharp intake of breath in Tom’s voice as his body posture went stiffer against the doorframe, “What if something happened?”

Harry couldn’t help but to lower down his eyes and let out a weak chuckle.

“Would it matter?” he muttered slowly, his hands letting go of the shirt he was holding. The material fell onto the floor and both of them watched it for a moment, as if they were trying to avoid the upcoming conversation they knew would take place. Harry could hear the almost inaudible deep breath Tom took later, and he heard the man’s approaching footsteps came even closer to his current position.

“Of course it would matter… You’re Harry.” Tom answered instead, his hands balled up into fists at the sides and Harry suppressed the urge to snort.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, the most emotionally retarded man he had ever met.

“Tom,” Harry turned and looked up at the older man, meeting Tom’s eyes and he was nearly surprised by the intensity of his staring, “I know you are here because… because I made a mistake, and that I was a fool… for believing that it would not happen.”

If Harry hadn’t been so immune to Tom, he would have missed the small fraction of Tom’s widened eyes, but he just shook his head and decided to just spell everything out for them both. “We broke up because I thought you’d die one day, because of your work, and I would not be able to handle that. So I was a coward. I took the easy road. And it backfired on me.”

Harry closed his eyes and turned away, refusing to look at Tom’s surprised face as the older man tried to process his words. He knew Tom would never mock him for such things, because Cedric’s death was not something to be mocked at, but the shocking turn of their love life was caused by Harry’s principle, the one that ended up shooting him back in the face.

Tom raised a hand to pinch between his eyebrows, letting out a heavy groan and shook his head abruptly.

“Harry,” he started, and Harry frowned with his back still to the other man, “I am not here for that. I’m worried about you. You… you seem off.”

Harry’s shoulders stiffened at Tom’s words. The older man watched warily as the young doctor clenched and unclenched his hands on his sides, before he slowly turned to look at Tom again. They looked at each other’s face, both trying to find someone they thought they could have missed, and Tom wanted so much to just break the empty shell Harry had placed his soul into.

Harry was the first the break the tense silence, his body posture stiff and fixed, but he looked almost miserable.

“You…” Harry took a shaky breath and shook his head, “You shouldn’t be here, it’s inappropriate, it’s _wrong_ , Cedric just-”

Harry was cut from his words as Tom descended down on him and caught his lips in a kiss. Harry’s body jolted and arched almost automatically towards Tom’s, his arms wrapped around his neck as Harry let out a surprise exhale of breath. Tom nipped on Harry’s lower lip, his own arms tight around Harry’s waist, and then he pulled Harry into another breathtaking kiss.

They didn’t know how long they spent time kissing and touching each other, both unable to deny themselves what they had always wanted. Harry trembled as Tom’s lips pressed kisses against his neck and leaving bite marks on his revealed shoulder. There were warnings of infidelity, since Cedric was not there to give him permission but it felt so right, Harry couldn’t stop keep taking Tom into him.

“Up until now,” he felt Tom’s warm breath against his skin and Harry clenched his eyes close, his arms tight around Tom’s neck, “I’m wondering why you are not broken yet.”

_“If you were so in love with Cedric, why are you not mourning for him now?”_

The real question was clear, hanging in the air between them, hanging by a thin, and breakable thread, and Harry took another shaky breath. His hands found themselves in Tom’s hair as he pulled the older man up to see his face, and kissed him passionately. Their mouths sought each other and Harry had to lean so much into Tom, on his tiptoes, to follow Tom’s lips when the older man pulled away again.

“Harry,” Tom breathed out and Harry watched as his pupils were dilated with lust and so much passion, it nearly melted Harry on the spot.

“Tom.” Harry responded instead and obliged willingly when Tom abruptly kissed him again. He realized Tom’s hands were now on his hips and he was pulling their pelvises close, not wanting to even risk an inch between them.

“I,” Tom murmured between their kisses and Harry pulled him even closer, as if that was still possible, “Don’t care what people think. You’re Harry, you’re my Harry, _you matter_.”

_“I’m sorry I failed to make you happy, I let you left me, I couldn’t save Cedric for you, and I’m sorry for being like this, I’m sorry for making you unhappy.”_

Tears started to leak from Harry’s closed eyes and Tom turned to turn them into kisses against Harry’s cheeks.

“Tom, stay, please stay,” Harry mumbled, biting his lip and Tom kissed him again to silent him, at least for the rare moment they had between them now. And when Harry kissed him back with equal passion and want and love, Tom could almost feel himself forgiven in return.

_“You’re forgiven, I love you, and you are and will always, be forgiven.”_

Cedric was sent back after the post mortem ended, which was two days after that. Harry had taken a few days off to settle things and Tom’s team, surprisingly, was given a chance to examine the evidence of Cedric’s murder. His team was not given back the case, but only to assist Snape’s team.

Tom still believe the current team was incapable of solving the case.

It was a question on why Cedric was in the old cover flat when he died and the evidence were almost none. And another thing was the absence of his cellphone. Draco and Blaise searched for in his belongings, and Harry had even confirmed that he brought along his cellphone with him to work.

There were no fingerprints or marks left. Not even a sign of struggle.

It was as if, Cedric had submitted to his fate, willingly.

Tom refused to accept the theory, but when you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

He had voiced the theory to the other two members, but Draco lashed out at him and Blaise only gave a response as if he was saying that Tom had lost his mind. Because for them, Cedric had worked too much on the case to just willingly gave away his life like that. Tom then decided to just let it stay in the back of his head, and put more effort in finding more leads for the case.

In the morning of the funeral, the sky was dark and gloomy. It was close to winter and Harry could feel the chill in the air seeping into his nerves. It was a small ceremony, with Cedric’s parents present and tried their best to comfort Harry, but at the same time, they were trying their best to not break down as well.

Harry stood between his sister and in-laws, underneath his black trench coat, he was wearing a button up white shirt, together with a black necktie and a waistcoat. His fingers tightened on the grip he had on Harriet’s hand, and it was no longer a question of bad weather when the rain slowly fell.

Tom stood at the back of the crowd, with Draco and Blaise by his sides. They believed that that was the last honour they could give to their late team member. Draco cursed under his breath though, when he realized the rain was falling and Blaise only shook his head, silently regretting the decision not to bring an umbrella with him. Tom however, stood still as the sky getting darker and the priest concluded the ceremony with a short prayer. His blue eyes were dark and sharp as they stared at Harry’s back. The young doctor had opened his umbrella to cover up himself and his sister, but when Harry turned slightly over his shoulder to steal a glance at Tom, Tom only managed to fist his hands tightly.

When the small crowd slowly disappearing, Draco turned to look at Tom and Blaise, his body posture stiff.

“We’re going back to the office now?”

Blaise nodded his head, half soaked by the rain and looked at the older man as well. Tom shrugged his shoulder slightly, and tilted his head to the direction of their cars. His hand however, was taking out his cellphone and his eyes appeared blank.

“Both of you go first. I have a call to make.” He murmured, causing Blaise and Draco to look at each other. But they took Tom’s odd response as the signal for them to mind their own business. Tom silently checked on his voicemail message, his eyebrows scrunched in a frown as he tried to remember the owner of the number.

He didn’t get the chance to add all the old numbers back into his new cellphone, and to be telling the truth, Tom was not the kind of person to keep the contact name in his phone. The thing that made him most curious was the time of the voicemail.

It was on the same date as Cedric’s death and few hours before they found the body. It was a bit irritating because his cellphone kept getting those late voicemail messages, something to do with the system, but then again, Tom was not the kind of person who frequently checked his voicemail. However, this one that he had just received, somehow alerting something in the back of his head.

Once Tom made sure that nobody was around to witness his action, he went to the closest tree for a cover from the rain. Slowly he dialled the voicemail number and pressed the phone to his ear.

_“Tom, Cedric’s here.”_

 

 

Harry sat down on the king sized bed belonging to him and his late husband. The sky was dark and the rain was now falling heavily. His head was bowed down, his shoulders trembled and his lips quivered. Tears fell from his closed eyes and Harry bit his lip, trying to suppress the sounds from coming out of his mouth.

The funeral was a heavy undertaking, and Harry finally broke down as he shook his head. The room was cold because of the open windows but Harry didn’t have it in him to close them, as he fisted his hands in his lap.

His green eyes were still shut close when he failed to control himself, and started to laugh. Harry covered his mouth with a palm, grinning wide behind the cover as his laughter became more real. Harriet, who was leaning against the wall watched him with a pair of amused eyes and lips stained with red lipstick.

“You’re done? Ready to wrap up things?” Harriet asked with a grin, and Harry nodded his head, couldn’t help but to grin as well.

“Yeah, I’m done,” he replied with another laughter, his green eyes dark but lively, “And I’m definitely ready for that.”

 

 

 _“There’s a reason why we failed to catch the murderer, Tom, we miscalculated. We both know there’s no way a woman can do all these killings without leaving any evidence. It’s too clean. It’s too perfect, Tom! And so I searched in the laptop belonged to the fifth victim, apparently the he left us something as a clue… Tom, listen to me. There is_ no _such thing as the Scalpel Murderer,”_

The rain was falling heavily and Tom was stuck in his position, his blue eyes wide and his hand trembled as he tightened his grip on his cellphone. Cedric’s next sentences were loud in his ear, and Tom felt his breathing became heavier and more suffocating.

 _“But there are Scalpel_ Murderers _. Last name, Evans. Tom, we are dealing with a pair of brilliant, and vengeful twin murderers, and you are right about that one thing you told us. This is a long planned chain of murders, and now they are out to finish everything off.”_

It was like a gear had turned in his head, turned to the right direction and with the perfect click of now completed picture of puzzles; Tom felt his heart perhaps had stopped beating for a few seconds. His cellphone nearly fell from his hand if he had not gained his control back and Tom’s eyes widened even more at the facts running through his mind.

He saw things as they fell back into place, completing the dance he had been involved in for years, and Tom would have fallen down onto his knees if he were not strong enough to handle the whole truth. His legs felt shaky and his hand shook as he ended the voicemail.

_“Because there is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.”_

Tom slowly tilted his head up, to look at the pouring sky and clenched his cellphone tightly in his hand. His whole body was trembling with adrenaline, cursing himself and at the same time, colours of truth almost blinded his sight.

 _Of course_ , Tom echoed in his mind as he closed his eyes and let the rain soak his face, perhaps then the salty taste on his lips could be mistaken as the raindrops, _of course_.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Psychopaths: Those who are unable to form emotional attachments or feel real empathy with others, although they often have charming and disarming personalities. They are very manipulative and can easily gain people’s trust. They learn to mimic emotions, despite their inability to actually feel them, and will appear normal to other unsuspecting people. Psychopaths are often well educated and hold steady jobs. Some are so good at manipulation and mimicry that they have families and other long-term relationships without those around them ever suspecting their true nature. When committing crimes, psychopaths carefully plan out every detail and often have a contingency plan in place. Unlike their sociopathic counterparts, psychopathic criminals are cool, calm and meticulous. They make few mistakes. A psychopath who becomes a serial killer would most likely conform to the FBI’s organized category of killer. The charming Ted Bundy provides a classic example of the poised, articulate and highly organized serial killer.
> 
> Source: Doc Bonn Blog.
> 
> Clues: Harry mentioned that Harriet was a criminal lawyer, and that she's flying to San Francisco. In the night when Cedric was killed, it was raining. Later shown Harry came out of the operation room, 'sweating'.
> 
> Background: The twins lived with their mother, Lily, before her death (since the father, James, was only a one-night stand) and later kidnapped and sold as slaves. The child that the lawyer was writing about could probably be Harry or Harriet, but the other twin was auctioned as well after the lawyer left. They managed to 'escape' and asked for help, in which the father came into view (after been informed about the existence of the twins) and took them in to live with him.
> 
> I am sorry about the ending, but I know you know there is only one end to this dance. It's either Tom, or Harry and Harriet. I thought of writing the scene where confrontation happened between Harry and Cedric, right before his death, but we'll see. But to make things clear, Harry perhaps, did love Tom, but not as much as how he wanted to puppet him.
> 
> The moral of this story is that, maybe the person you want to protect the most, is actually the reason behind your downfall. 
> 
> Please review. :)


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